


Sylvain and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Blind Date

by Jess_B_Fossil



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: And a happy ending, Blind Date, First Date, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Modern AU, Modern Era, No angst tho, literally the world's worst blind date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_B_Fossil/pseuds/Jess_B_Fossil
Summary: “Are you Sylvain?” the man asks. Sylvain’s mouth parts slightly, brow furrowing in confusion. “You look like what Annie described.”Sylvain is speechless, he’s utterly speechless, because in some dramatic twist of black irony, the universe has sent a man as his date.He’s not sure it can get any worse.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 23
Kudos: 261





	Sylvain and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Blind Date

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone read the kid's book that this title is based on? Yeah, me neither.

_**Sylvain and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Blind Date** _

Sylvain wakes up fairly confident that he’s going to nail his blind date. His clothes are clean and pressed, already laid out and ready to warn. He’s got time to shave and just enough cologne to make a difference. He’s pleasantly hungry, but not starving, the perfect combo that ensures a proper lunch _and_ dessert. Maybe even a coffee afterwards in a seemingly not-so-desperate bid to spend as much time as he possibly can with his date. 

Sylvain doesn’t know what she looks like, but Annie promises him that he’ll be pleased. 

But then he walks out the door. 

It starts to rain the moment he hits the sidewalk. He turns back to grab an umbrella, but it doesn’t matter, he’s already soaking. He changes into another set of clean clothes that look decent, but he still tries to hide the wrinkles with a tie. His hair’s a curling mess now in the sudden humidity. 

The bus is late, no reasons given, naturally. Then it’s even later as it breaks down on the side of the road literally two stops from the restaurant. He gets out and walks the rest of the way. 

The cute Italian place is a favorite, but they’ve lost his reservation. Sylvain insists that he has one-- he even shows her the e-mail confirmation. The hostess smiles stiffly and says that it’ll be a forty minute wait, so he sits and waits on the small little booth by the door. At least his date is late too, but it’s a small comfort. 

A man slams through the door with a curse, sopping wet and without an umbrella. He shakes off like a dog, before moving to readjust his ponytail. The hostess watches him with a critical eye, sighing at the water that’s now all over the floor, before leaving to grab a mop. 

Sylvain watches him look around, before his gaze stopping and-- 

“Are you Sylvain?” the man asks. Sylvain’s mouth parts slightly, brow furrowing in confusion. “You look like what Annie described.”

Sylvain is speechless, he’s utterly speechless, because in some dramatic twist of black irony, the universe has sent a _man_ as his date. 

He’s not sure it can get any worse.

#

It does. 

Sylvain’s not really a wine kind of guy, but Felix insists on ordering a bottle, because it’s _been a bad day for him._ Sylvain instantly agrees. The waiter is slippery-handed though, and as he’s pouring a glass out, the bottle slips in his grip, landing all over Sylvain’s lap instead. 

He’s not amused. 

A trip to the bathroom and a napkin later, his steak comes well-done instead of a proper mid-rare. He’s going to eat it without complaint, but Felix tells him to send it back. _Might as well wait._ So Sylvain does. The next time it comes back raw. 

“Goddess, I just,” Sylvain says. Felix looks up from the pasta he’s poking at, and judging by his sour face, it’s not much better off. “I swear, this place is normally amazing.” 

“I know,” Felix says. “I come here with Annie.” The words sound genuine at least, and he doesn’t seem annoyed by Sylvain. But there’s also a flat boredness that encompasses the man’s demeanor, and Sylvain’s not really sure how to handle it. 

Sylvain’s been around and dated a lot; he knows how to get a girl swooning, fawn over their features and woo them into his apartment with little more than a smile and well placed wink. But a man? Sylvain doesn’t even know where to start. Hell, he doesn’t know if he _wants_ to start. 

Felix is good-looking though, with him slim build and poise. His face is severe, but handsome in his own right. Sylvain’s never really been interested in a man, but he’s not against the idea; Felix has a uniqueness about him to pulls him in. 

Sylvain trusts Annie, which is why he agreed to the blind date anyhow…. So he’ll entertain the idea. Even if Felix will _never_ want another date after this entire disaster. 

They chat genially over their food. Felix is the editor for a knife magazine, citing that: _it’s_ _boring work, but at least I get to work with blades._ Sylvain’s not really sure how to take that, other than _weird, but hot_ , but it’s the most that Felix has talked all night. Sylvain’s surprised that he… doesn’t really want it to end. 

“Annie tells me that you bag groceries at the supermarket she frequents,” Felix says, swirling his glass of wine. 

“She um-- she told you that?” Sylvain winces at the thought, because it’s not exactly a glamorous job, but it’s got the schedule flexibility that he needs. “I mean, yeah, I do, but it’s not like… I don’t really tell people that I guess.”

Felix blinks at him. “Why not?”

“Well, it’s not really impressive or anything, but they work with my school schedule and--”

“Why does your job need to be impressive?” Felix doesn’t seem to be judging him, eyes probing with genuine honesty. 

“I… well, I guess it doesn’t--”

“A job is a job. I’ve had my share of… _unimpressive_ work.” Felix shrugs at that.

Sylvain’s not used to people being chill about a clear divide in their personal lives; women have broken it off with him, because dating a bagger ruins their image. Even if he comes from actual money. A _lot_ of money. Felix’s blatant brush off is a hint of fresh air. 

The rest of their lunch is pleasant, with subtle smiles and small talk. Felix is quiet and Sylvain can’t tell if it’s politeness or disinterest. 

The waiter brings the bill and Felix insists on paying for it. Sylvain chucks his card at the server, saying to split it. The man nods and leaves. The bill comes back with their meals charged on the wrong card. 

Felix’s mouth pulls downward and he says, “I’ll flag him down--”

“It’s fine,” Sylvain says. “I’ve got it.”

Felix eyes him warily. “That bottle of wine is--”

“It’s _fine,”_ Sylvain says. Even if the wine is _way_ pricier than anticipated.

Felix gives him a moment to change his mind, but relents without a further word. At least the man can read a room, Sylvain thinks.

#

Felix escorts Sylvain all the way back to his apartment. It’s a little too gentlemanly for Sylvain’s taste, but he also kind of likes it and it seems to fit Felix’s rather traditional personality. 

Too bad that a car nearly runs them over, after passing a red light without care. Sylvain yanks Felix out of the street and onto the sidewalk with a hasty jerk. Felix reaches out, fingers digging into his coat tightly as he rights himself. 

And then he pushes away immediately, like he’s caught himself in some sort of weird, intimate moment. 

Sylvain blinks, awkwardly patting at Felix’s shoulders. “Yeah, um, that was-- that was something.” Felix huffs at that, cheeks pink in embarrassment and _shit it’s cute_. Sylvain flounders and then says, “My apartment’s not that far, so let’s uh-- Yeah this way.”

It starts raining again. Neither of them have an umbrella, so by the time that they reach Sylvain’s apartment building, they’re soaked to the bone. Felix is pale and clammy, bangs clinging to his face as Sylvain looks at him, while standing under the overhang.

“So, this is where I ask for your number,” Felix says smoothly. 

Sylvain’s brain short circuits at his words. “I’m-- _what?”_

Felix blinks back at him. “Your number,” he repeats. “I’d like it.” There’s another pause and then, “Unless you don’t want to, which is fine--”

“This was literally the worst fucking date ever,” Sylvain blurts. 

“But that wasn’t your fault,” Felix says to him. “It was just bad luck.”

“For both of us,” Sylvain says. “Bad luck for both of us. Repeatedly.”

“Annie warned me,” Felix says, “that you’re only _open_ to dating men. I could tell that I wasn’t what you were expecting, because I bet that she didn’t tell you. You could have called the whole thing off, the moment I walked through that door. When the wine spilled in your lap, you could have excused yourself to the bathroom and ditched entirely. But you didn’t.” 

“Well…”

“I’m not good at dating,” Felix continues. “Abysmal at it, really. I run people off pretty quick, but you seem stubborn enough to give it a go.” He pauses, his mouth quirking into a smirk. “And you’re cute, in a doofy sort of way. You even wore a tie.”

_“Doofy--”_

“So, phone please.”

Sylvain stands there, waffling as his mouth hangs open in shock. Felix waits expectantly, hand out. Sylvain fishes his phone out his pocket, before dropping it into his palm unlocked. Felix types his number in quickly and hands it back.

Sylvain pockets the phone once more, rubbing at the back of his head nervously, his stance stiff and tight and--

“Should I kiss you?” Felix asks aloud, more like a sighed ponder than an actual question. 

Before Sylvain can answer, Felix reaches forward to yank at his tie, pulling his face down. Felix’s lips are soft against his and the kiss is short, but it sets Sylvain’s brain on fire. He reaches out to steady himself against Felix’s shoulders. 

Felix smiles against him, before pulling back. He straightens Sylvain’s tie, readjusting it effortlessly. “Until the next time,” Felix says.

“Can I text you?” Sylvain blurts, finally breaking his silence. He feels like a lovestruck teenager, unsure about what’s brewing in him, but knowing that he wants to explore it.

Felix steps back, the corner of his mouth twitching up in the smallest of smiles. “Isn’t that the expectation?” He gives a little wave, before turning on his heel and rounding the corner, leaving Sylvain behind in a daze. 

And then Sylvain remembers himself. He fishes out his phone with little decorum, fingers sliding wet over his screen. 

_Annie,_ he texts. Sylvain laughs at the absurdity that blooms in his chest. _Annie, he’s perfect._

It only takes a few moments for him to shuffle into his apartment and change, and when he does, he sees that she’s texted him right back.

_Duh._

**Author's Note:**

> Have questions? A burning need for answers? Have a story idea? Just want to talk Sylvix? Don't forget to check out my [Tumblr](https://missmarquin.tumblr.com/), and drop an ask!
> 
> Also, follow me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/HornyBaldFossil)


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